Day 42: Our Third Day on The River Boat — and The Piranha Story
We had breakfast at around 7:30, and spent some time playing with a blowgun Joshua had made from scratch the night before (!) using materials found on our swim/lunch excursion. It took him hours wearing a headlamp, whittling away last night. He made non-sharp darts, and set up a shooting target for the kids (an orange life vest). This was a big hit, not surprisingly.
We had two big excursions today: A jungle walk…and piranha fishing.
Before we could leave for the first we had big drama because Willa didn’t want to wear the long pants and long shirtsleeves our guide recommended because of ticks. Meltdowns have been scarce, but we had one. “I don’t want to be hoooooooot!” Wailing while everyone waiting below decks. Brutal.
Finally got her out the door and onto the aluminum boat to head into the woods. We spent the next two hours walking through the rainforest, led by the non-English speaking indigenous rainforest expert Jose, who whack-whack-whacked vines and trees out of the way for us with his machete.
About 30 minutes in we saw a family of spider monkeys about 150 feet up in the forest canopy. Spider monkeys are about as big as me, with giant long arms. They were curious about us–and then annoyed that we were there. While we watched, they leapt from tree to tree and threw sticks and branches down at us to scare us off. When we finally moved along, they followed us for a bit, continuing to throw sticks.
Jose and Joshua showed us tree-climbing tricks (Willa gave it a shot), and how to make bird calls by scraping a palm leaf on your machete.
Next up: Jumping off the big boat for some swimming.
We were parked in a somewhat open water area that Joshua told us was about 30 feet deep. We were promised, again, no fish/alligators/snakes/rays. So we got in.
Spent about 30 minutes jumping off the boat into the black water. The kids floated on noodles. The captain’s 17-year-old son Gabriel, a deckhand and James BFF, was doing backflips off the top of the boat. Teddy did a high jump from the second level.
Lunch was ham and corn cheese frittata and pirarucu in stew followed by lime custard with chocolate crust.
Ok. That’s when we set out to go piranha fishing.
Piranhas live in deep, still water near trees. We rode the little motorboat through a watery forest looking for a good place to stop. It’s the rainy season so the river is high.
Joshua our guide was up front, Jose was operating the motor in the back. Our Sao Paolo buddy and boat mate this week, Laura, was in the front. Willa and I sat on the middle bench, Teddy and James were behind us.
The rods were simple bamboo sticks with string, and bait was chunks of raw beef.
Joshua baits up
Now would be another good time to mention my fear of fish. I have chills just writing about them.
But, there I was. The guides were such pros and we had come to trust them so much. Heck I even had a rod myself!
We baited up, dropped our lines and waited among the eerily still trees. It was completely and totally silent out there.
The instructions were clear: If you felt a nibble, jerk your line upward in one short tug to snag the piranha’s mouth. The key was to keep the movement tight and controlled.
About 7 minutes in, Laura said she felt a nibble and we saw her line go taut.
I was seized with fear. This was not a big boat. How could I get away from what was about to happen? That fish was going to come flopping out of the water and I’d have to be within 8 feet of it. Omg omg omg. The “flight” of fright or flight seized me.
But I had no idea how bad it was about to be.
Laura ignored our guide’s very important instructions to keep her movements tight and small.
Instead, picture a retired, caipirinha-loving Sao Paolo PhD letting out a loud hoot and using every muscle in her body to yank her rod up and back, hard, as if reeling in a marlin.
The rest is slo-mo in our collective memory.
Laura’s fishing line shot straight up into the air above us. There was a LIVE F#%*ING PIRANHA on the end of it, sailing over our heads.
The fish smacked a tree branch high above us. Then, it fell back down toward the boat, aimed right. at. my. stupid. face.
Someone was screaming bloody murder. It was me. I saw the piranha coming at me and instinctively launched myself backward off the bench onto my back, whacking my skull loudly on the aluminum floor of the boat, feet straight in the air.
That alone might have been comedy, but it was so much worse than that: I pulled a screaming Willa back with me.
The piranha *bounced off* of me and into the boat floor, where Willa fell on top of it, her screams going from panicked to blood-curdling because she couldn’t get up and didn’t know where the fish was.
There was a blur of Portuguese shouting while the guides and Teddy pinned the fish and swept us up. As soon as it began, it was over.
No one got bitten.
Our brave Willa cried for a bit but then calmed down pretty quickly.
For a moment we were all panting, stunned. When we caught our breath and realized everyone was okay, though, the entire boat started laughing and didn’t stop for 15 minutes straight. Like, tears running down faces hysterical cry-laughing, right there in the piranha-infested waters.
A flock of parrots above us was squawking like crazy, and Joshua said they were laughing at us, saying, “Gringos! Gringos!”
Even stoic Jose couldn’t keep a straight face for the rest of of the afternoon. Just when we’d pant and wipe our eyes from laughing so hard, we’d start up again.
It didn’t help that for the rest of the trip I would flinch dramatically at every sound, including the crunch of ice cubes when Jose pulled a (much needed) beer out of the cooler for me. My absurd, goofy jumpiness, of course, made us all laugh harder.
Believe it or not we stayed out there and caught three more piranhas (every time we got a nibble the guides would quickly take control of the rods). I myself have chosen to retire the piranha rod forever. But brave Willa really wanted to catch one and even though she didn’t, had fun posing with “the one that tried to bite my bum.”
I’m not sure this description does what happened justice, but this incident was at once the single scariest and most hilarious moment of my life.
Laura!
The rest of the afternoon was lovely downtime on the big boat — the kids playing with Gabriel, grownups reading and writing, everyone enjoying the views of pink dolphins and toucans while the sun set. Did I mention this boat had all meals, snacks, beers and caipirinhas included?
Oh and on the dinner menu: Piranha. And it was surprisingly tasty. Joshua cleaned off two sets of jaws for us to take home, a souvenir Willa and James will show their grandkids, no doubt.
As if today didn’t have enough excitement, we got back into the little boat after dinner for a nocturnal alligator-spotting mission. We spent nearly two hours puttering through tiny streams by moonlight — mosquito bats flying all around us — looking for alligators. If we’d seen one, our guide would have brought it into the boat for a closer look.
But to all of our disappointment and relief, the guys came up empty.
James slept through the entire thing.
